A Daffydil in the Rhetoric Department

   Would Miss Alice HOWELL, if Davis should FRY a BUCK over GAS in the FOGG?--H. B. C.

   We dislike to write on trite subjects--time-worn themes such as life, death, love, and--Dr. Maxey.
   But there are certain fundamental things about which something can always be said. And how could an Annual be representative of our great and glorious school without a page devoted to Dr. Maxey; that quiet, unassuming little man, who slips about leaving never a suspicion of the great mind busy beneath that familiar black "Kit Carson" hat.
   Why, who is it anyway, that twice a day saunters up the gentle incline to old U. Hall, hands in pockets, overcoat open, hat pushed back on noble brow! Who is it nods and speaks to more co-eds than any other man upon the Campus, who has calling prerogative with all the prettiest girls in

school! Who is it makes the star speech at every football rally! Who is it, year after year, in spite of his naive way, teaches law to lawless would-be lawyers! And, say, who has more stories up his sleeve than a dog has hairs! Why that little man passes the time of day with a story, he describes the weather with a pun; he says farewell with a "daffydil." He responds to the occasion as readily as a penny-weighing machine to a copper dropped in the slot.
   He never gets mad, they say, upon but two occasions. One is when he is beaten at a game of cards. Then he looks at his watch and quietly takes his departure. The other occasion is when a snowball, thrown across the class room at a bald-headed "law," glances off said head and splattering upon said Maxey's desk, mosses up the class book. Even then it is said he comes up smiling with a reference to the inappropriateness of a "military ball."
   "But as I was about to say" (Great Applause!)--"as I was about to say," our Dr. Maxey is known outside of home circles. He is authority, if you please, on certain legal subjects, such as International Law. He wrote a book upon it and modestly refuses to allow it to be installed in the library, because, he contends, each "law" should own his own book. His class rooms, we are told, are places for whetting the wits rather than cramming the craniums of future Blackstones and Websters.
   Most University functions show his smiling face: games, rallies, smokers, and banquets. He is interested. He doesn't confine himself to law. He is proud of our heroes, he is anxious in our crises, he is--well, if you don't know him, get acquainted. You can't miss him, that quiet, unassuming, little Nebraska man, Dr. Maxey.

   If Beta is old, is Sigma Nu?
   If D.G. tips, does Alpha Phi?
   If Theta owes ten dollars, how much does Alpha 0?
   If Kappa could, would Delta Tri.

   Here is the history of the Olympic hero as written by the Campus Ade:
   There was once a proud Stude who spent his iron boys for Gorgeous Rags and was a Fussle to beat the Band. He would not go in the Olympics because he was a Soph more. Likewise He fussed a Regular Dame.
   On this same Campus was a Guy who wore a Cap and Corduroy Pants. Also He smoked a Vile Pipe and was not a Lady Killer. He went in the Fracas because He was a Soph more. He knew his Beauty could not be damaged.
   The Kandy Kid took the Swell Skirt and stood on the side lines at the Riot. The Ruff Guy went In and the Beauty Cast her Eyes on Him. "Introduce Me to that Dandy Fellow" she said.
   With Sore Feelings the Swell Dresser led the Guy to Her. The Guy at once became Chesty and made a Hit with the Co-ed and beat the Highfliers' time with the Girl.
   MORAL--Go into, not to, the Olympics. UPDE.

After the Ball Was Over

    The alarm clock in the frat house dressing room has just announced the mysterious hour of 2 :00 A.M., and the last belated "fusser" has just "blew in" from the Prom. On the floor, and on the dressers, and on the chairs, (if the ordinary frat house dressing apartments afford such) are seated the other brothers discussing what took place at the "spiketail hoe-down." The following gives an idea of what the belated brothers' impressions are upon entering the room: "Hi, Bill! what's the matter; don't you know any better than to keep that poor girl outside talking this time o' night? I got home an hour and a half ago."
   "Well, you see, I stopped down in town to get something to eat, and--"    "Say-y-y Boy, that dame you had is sure some kid, be-l-i-e-ve me, and dance! Oh, just let me die waltzing with 'It.'"
   "You just bet, she is there, she sure made a hit with me--what is she, a Pi Phi?"
   "Pi Phi! no, no, my boy, you don't see any Pi Phis running loose like that, and besides--"
   "Say, that boy is certainly the strong arm kid with the Delta Gammas, he didn't dance with anything else all evening."
   "Who's that, Harry Brown? Aw, he's a mut anyway; I noticed the way his dress-suit fit him, dam f't wasn't a fright."
   . . . "Naw, I didn't have a good time with her; she can't talk anything except sense, and I ain't got no time for a girl of that caliber--wasn't the Alpha Phis there strong though, and the 'fussy rags' too!"
   "Say, just tell me what the Alpha Phis amount to anyway; you're always harping on the Alpha Phis."
   "And you are always harping on the Thetas; I don't see where you have much room to talk. What did the Thetas ever do for us, I would like to know. I never have been invited to a Theta doin's yet, and I have been sticking around this old 'scillege' now for about four years."

   "Well, that's all right, old sport,--say, Freshman, shut up over there, what right have you to be alive anyway? Just because you got by the door some way you needn't think you are the only 'dope' around here. Just remember there are a few Seniors around the house."
   Assuming this talk has gone on about three hours, the brothers are about ready for bed, and one by one the sleepy ones begin to drop off until there are only two or three left who never go to bed, or who want to discuss their deeper love thoughts with one another.
HILL.

   Miss England goes through class role in search of some one who has read the lesson; "Mr. Bochoritch? Mr. Davies? Mr. Racely?" etc., etc. (At last) Mr. Frank Long, have you read the lesson?"
   Abstractedly--"N--no: but I'm readin' it."